


Nightmare

by phantomhivemast3r



Series: Detroit: Become Human Oneshots [6]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Dad Hank, Dreams and Nightmares, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Memories, Mention of violent Markus, Oneshot, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), son connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-23 16:10:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15610029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomhivemast3r/pseuds/phantomhivemast3r
Summary: Connor finds himself in a nonsensical situation. It seems like a nightmare, but that's impossible; androids can't sleep, so they definitely can't dream... and they certainly don't need a bit of human comfort once in a while, either.





	1. Part 1

** Nightmare (Part 1) **

Connor opened his eyes and found himself standing in the middle of a dark alley. He didn't know how he'd gotten there- no mission directive or holographic map pointing to this destination currently blocked his view. He reasoned that his software must have suffered a minor malfunction while in the middle of a case, temporarily rendering his short-term memory inaccessible.

This certainly wouldn't deter Connor from whatever his mission _was_ , though. He merely had to look for context clues around the area and talk to someone, preferably Hank, if the Lieutenant was with him that day, to figure out what he'd been sent to do.

Footsteps crunched over broken glass, instantly piquing Connor's attention. The android turned, hoping to see his partner striding up to him with an obscenity-filled quip already issuing from his mouth. However, Hank was not the figure standing at the alleyway entrance, backlit by the dim streetlights as his long coat fluttered in the breeze.

"Markus?" Connor questioned, the left corner of his mouth lifting into a half-smile. He hadn't seen his friend in quite some time and was surprised to find him in a place like this. But when Markus just stood there, unmoving, Connor quickly realized that this might not be the pleasant reunion he wished for.

"Are you alright?" Connor asked, his LED flashing yellow. Whatever made Connor lose his short-term memory must have also affected his senses as well, for he was unable to "read" Markus at all. The deviant leader's stress level was unknown, and Connor couldn't even see his face clearly because of the lighting.

"You killed so many of us," Markus said abruptly. Connor frowned, the light on his temple instantly turning a bright, warning red.

"I... I'm not sure what you're referring to," he responded hesitantly, shifting into a defensive position. Markus was a pacifist through and through, but if he was _also_ malfunctioning, there was no predicting what his next move might be... especially if he was upset.

"You hunted us," Markus went on, completely ignoring Connor's confusion. He took a step forward, and Connor saw that his face was gnarled into an unbecoming expression of rage. "You tried to strike us down when we were defenseless. You tried to _kill_ _me."_

Connor's mouth opened, but in a rare instance, he was at a loss for words. He didn't know what caused Markus to say these things and it hurt to hear them spoken so brashly.

"I know what I've done," Connor finally said, slowly raising his palms up in a gesture of peace. "But I'm no longer the android under CyberLife's control. We've talked about this subject in-depth approximately seven times, Markus; please run a system scan and try to remember."

"There's nothing wrong with _me."_ Suddenly, an all-too-familiar clicking noise brought the barrel of a gun right in front of Connor's eyes. " _You're_ the one who needs to pay for what you've done."

Connor froze. This wasn't right; he hadn't detected any weapons on Markus' person, so how had a gun materialized out of thin air? And, more importantly, why was Markus pointing it directly at his face?

"Don't..." Connor's voice was soft. Weak. He felt a complete lack of control and it _scared_ him. None of his sensors were working correctly. Everything was dampened- noise, sight, smell. He still couldn't bring up any display commands, either.

The barrel of a gun had never seemed so menacing.

"I have no more mercy left to give you," Markus stated bluntly, and Connor's eyes widened.

Markus' finger twitched and there was a loud _bang!_ as a bullet freed itself from its chamber. Connor managed to jump out of the way enough to avoid a shot straight through his head, but his thirium-pumping heart wasn't so lucky.

Connor fell with a crash, knocking over some wayward garbage cans as his body slid down the alley wall onto the dirty ground. His fingers came away from his chest slick with blue blood and he gasped- not because of the sight of his vital liquids leaking out at an alarming rate, but from the pain of the bullet lodged in his heart.

_This isn't right,_ Connor thought, the sharp, excruciating feeling rendering him unable to speak and barely able to move.

_I was specifically designed_ without _pain sensitivity._

_There's no way I should be feeling this._

_This isn't right._

He reached out imploringly towards Markus, his arm shaking. He felt a trail of blue blood leaking out of his mouth and his eyes began fluttering closed.

"Pl...ease... get... Ha..." That was all Connor managed to croak out before his voice box failed. There was no visual notification to tell him this; his only cue was a raw, ripping sensation of heat in his throat and then the words just... stopped.

Markus gave no audible response. He kneeled over the dying android and pressed the gun against Connor's temple, face still twisted in that horrendous mask of hatred.

_This isn't right._

Markus' finger pulled back, there was another loud _bang!,_ and then-

***

"Connor, wake the _fuck_ up!"

A loud voice shouting directly in Connor's ear overrode the horrendous sound of a second bullet embedding itself into his body. The android's eyes sprung open, pupils large as the cameras behind them stared wildly around and tried to collect as much data as possible. He attempted to sit up, but felt a rough hand push him back down onto the soft ground.

Wait- no, he was leaning against a brick wall, bleeding out. It shouldn't be _soft._

"Jesus, Connor, _calm down!_ It's just me! It's Hank!"

The name fully snapped Connor back to reality. He blinked rapidly, his deductive reasoning working overtime as he decided what to examine first: his surroundings, or the pressure on his chest. It took approximately one tenth of a second for him to shift his gaze downwards.

To his relief, his shirt was completely free of blue blood. It was also _not_ the white button-up he'd just been wearing, but an oversized band t-shirt temporarily borrowed from Hank whenever his own clothes were in the wash. The same went for the gym shorts, which hadn't actually _seen_ a gym in nearly a decade, cinched around his waist.

Another comforting realization: the pressure on Connor's chest was not from a bullet wound, but from Hank's hand currently pressing down on him. Connor assumed this was both to keep him from jumping up and also an attempt at reassurance.

" _Hank_." Connor said the detective's name as if he were letting out a breath he'd been holding for quite some time.

"Yeah, it's me," Hank responded, voice full of relief. He wore an expression of intense concern. "What the fuck happened to you?!"

"I'm... unsure," Connor said slowly, performing a quick internal assessment. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him, save for the slightly elevated pace of his machine-made heart. "I was... I was in the middle of an alley and Markus showed up. I attempted to talk to him, but he was extremely distressed and..."

Hank frowned when Connor trailed off. "You've been here the whole time, Connor." He removed his hand from Connor's chest, only to gently place it against the android's forehead, checking for a high temperature. Almost immediately, Hank shook his head, snatching his hand back as he realized how stupid this gesture was- androids didn't show their sickness like humans did. "Apparently you were doin’ something weird, though, 'cause Sumo ran into my room and started pawing at me like the damn house was on fire. As soon as I got into the living room, you just started _screaming."_

Hank turned his gaze to the ground, grimacing. "God, Connor, I've never heard someone scream like that unless they were fucking _dying._ You scared the shit outta me."

"I'm sorry," Connor apologized. He sensed another presence close by and turned to find Sumo suddenly inches from his face. The dog gave him a long, slobbery lick, as if forgiving him for the worry he'd caused.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Hank asked.

"That's impossible." Connor looked up at him, wiping the dog saliva off his face with the back of his hand. "Androids can't dream."

"Right." Hank crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "But maybe _deviants_ can?"

Connor pursed his lips at the ridiculous suggestion. Deviancy gave androids a sense of human emotion by breaking through their coding and altering it using data they'd been obtaining, consciously or not, since they were activated. The ability to dream was on an entirely new level, requiring androids to create a scenario, usually a nonsensical one, potentially out of nothing.

But, if that experience hadn't been a dream, then... what _had_ it been?

"Well, dream or not, whatever you saw really fucked you up," Hank eventually said when Connor failed to respond. He tried to be nonchalant about the situation, but Connor detected the deep-seated worry lurking behind his pale eyes. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." Connor flashed a smile. "You can go back to bed. I'll return to stasis mode and run a full self-diagnostic test. Hopefully that will tell us if a bug somehow got into my system and caused me to... hallucinate."

 Hank's expression was as skeptical as could be. However, it was two in the morning and he was exhausted, so with a shrug and a mental promise to check on Connor first thing when he woke up, he turned to leave.

Connor couldn't find a reason in his programming as to why his hand shot out and grabbed Hank's wrist. He hadn't planned to stretch his fingers as far as they could go and nearly topple over the edge of the couch, desperately trying to get a hold of the human before he moved out of reach. He hadn't planned to disrupt Hank's departure at all, but the thought of seeing Markus' hatred-filled face when he closed his eyes caused Connor's body to act before his mind caught up to it.

Hank felt the pull on his wrist and slowly turned. Connor stared up at him, eyes big and questioning, forehead creased in utter confusion and mouth open slightly as if he wanted to say something but had no idea what that something might be. He looked very much like Sumo when he'd done something bad and was unsure if Hank was about to scold him.

"I-I don't...," Connor trailed off, trying to convey the jumble of thoughts clouding his brain.

That unnatural stutter was all it took for Hank's heart to seize up and instantly decide his next course of action.

"Alright, fuck this; lift your feet up, Connor," Hank instructed, removing the android's hand from his wrist. Connor's frown increased tenfold, his gaze briefly shifting to his bare feet resting at the other end of the couch. The couch was small enough that Connor's toes were only a few inches away from the opposing armrest.

"Why?" the android asked, and Hank rolled his eyes.

"Stop fucking questioning everything and lift your damn feet up!"

Connor did as he was told, lifting his legs into a perfect fifty-degree angle. Hank maneuvered under them and settled onto the couch cushion, then gently pushed the android's legs downwards until Connor fully lowered them onto his lap.

"Now listen," Hank said sternly, draping one arm over Connor's shins and pointing at the android with his other hand. "Accident or not, if you kick me in the nuts I'm pushing you off this fucking couch without hesitation. Got it?"

"Got it," Connor nodded, although he didn't truly understand the purpose of this. "But... why did you decide to sit there? If you wanted to stay in the living room with me, you have other lounge chairs you could rest on. Although, if you'd like to get the proper amount of sleep necessary for you to function at an optimal level of performance, I'd strongly suggest sleeping in a real bed."

Hank stared at him blankly for a long few seconds. Eventually he let out a heavy sigh, raking a hand down his face with enough pressure that Connor could tell whatever he was going to say next affected him deeply.

"Whenever Cole..." Hank paused, lingering over the name of his lost child, unspoken for so long it felt almost foreign on his lips. His eyes met Connor's again and he started over. "When... Whenever Cole had a nightmare, I'd let him either crawl into bed with me or, if I was still awake and watchin' TV in here, he'd... curl up in my lap."

Hank stopped again, teeth clenching together, gripping Connor's leg so tightly his fingernails left indents in the android's artificial skin. For a split-second of relief, Connor registered that he couldn't feel the pain that this would normally cause a human. However, this thought was overshadowed by concern for Hank's well-being. His vital signs had suddenly spiked, his stress level now up to 65%- nothing too concerning, but certainly something to keep watch of.

"You had a nightmare- and don't argue, you know damn well that's exactly what it was." Hank jabbed a finger towards Connor again, then let his hand fall heavily onto the armrest. "You're sure as fuck not gettin' into bed with me, and you're _way_ to big fit in my lap. Plus, that'd be too weird; you're designed to be, what, like, twenty-five?"

"Twenty-seven, actually," Connor responded. Hank rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. Still weird as hell. Anyway-" Hank scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Since neither of those options work, I figured this is the next best thing."

Connor studied the tired, grey-haired man before him. Hank had been through so much pain in his lifetime, especially in recent years. After everything the world threw at him, he had no reason to be kind to other humans, much less to an android who wasn’t supposed to feel emotions in the first place. And yet, here he was, one arm surrounding Connor’s shins in a cocoon of warmth, when months ago he couldn't stand it if an android so much as looked at him the wrong way. Hank made no indication that he was uncomfortable with the current situation, save for the worry still lingering in his eyes as he watched Connor, waiting for him to speak.

Connor blinked twice and then said, matter-of-factly, “You’re trying to comfort me.”

Hank gave a chuckle, rolling his eyes. “Thanks, captain obvious. Nice to know you're still dense as hell when it comes to this stuff."

Connor smiled. “You’re very kind, Hank.”

“Cut the sap and go back to bed; I’ve gotta be up early tomorrow and I don’t wanna feel like shit more than I usually do.”

With that, Hank rested an elbow on the couch arm and planted his chin upon his open palm, creating a makeshift headrest that Connor knew must be extremely uncomfortable.

Connor blinked again, LED switching from blue to yellow. He thought of Markus, with that horrible face, staring down at him as he bled out in an alley. Connor knew there was a chance of seeing this violent deviant leader again when he closed his eyes, but he was no longer quite as scared. He knew it wasn’t real. If androids could in fact dream, then that’s all it was- a nightmare that Connor would have to find the origins of another time.

The android spared Hank another glance, performing one final assessment on the human's physical state. Already, Hank’s heartbeat and breathing were slowing down, showing the first signs of his body entering its dormant state of sleep. At this stage, Hank should be unable to comprehend if someone tried speaking to him… which was a good thing, because Connor had a feeling that Hank would be unsure of how to respond to what he said next. 

“Thanks, dad,” he murmured softly, putting all the emotion he’d gathered over the past months into those two, simple words. Never before had Connor meant what he said so sincerely.

Hank grumbled something unintelligible, hearing the voice but not understanding it, already half-asleep. Connor smiled warmly, then settled into a more comfortable position for when he exited stasis mode... hopefully not before Hank’s alarm went off at seven am.


	2. Part 2

** Nightmare (Part 2) **

Approximately two hours later, Hank's head slipped off his palm, jerking him awake from the sudden falling sensation. He let out a grunt of surprise, frowning as he looked around the area that was distinctly _not_ his bedroom. Soon, though, he noticed the legs resting atop his lap and remembered why he'd settled himself on the couch for what he knew would be a god-awful night of sleep.

Not that he'd ever admit this fact, of course. There was no way he'd intentionally make Connor feel guilty in circumstances like these.

Hank let out a low curse as a familiar aspect of being human made itself known: he had to go to the bathroom. He glanced over at Connor, sure that the android's super-sensitive ears would've picked up on his grumbling and shifting by this point. However, to Hank's amazement, Connor lay still, completely immersed in what he referred to as "stasis mode"- though Hank would always call it "sleeping."

Hank watched Connor for a moment, debating whether moving the android's legs would wake him up. It was rare to see Connor so _calm_ , not running around trying to investigate something or asking endless questions about what it meant to be human. Hank really didn't want to disturb him, but unfortunately, his bladder was too forceful to ignore.

As gently as he could, Hank lifted Connor's legs up just enough to duck under them, then slowly lowered them back onto the couch. With each passing second, he expected the android to stir, but the only noticeable chance was a split-second crease of Connor's eyebrows as the warmth under his feet suddenly disappeared.

Sumo, who _had_ been roused by the sound of his owner moving around, received a few pets as Hank exited the living room.

"Shit," the detective cursed when he returned, facing a new predicament that he would've realized had it not been for the heavy cloud of sleep hanging around him. He'd gotten off the couch with no trouble, but now he had to reverse the process.

Of course, he _could_ return to his bedroom and leave Connor here alone; this was the living situation the two had been abiding by for months, after all. However, that idea was quickly overshadowed by the image of Connor's unnaturally wide, scared eyes staring up at him. It was moments like these when Hank realized that, despite how advanced Connor's AI was, the kid was still _learning._ Experiences that the detective had encountered many times, like a nightmare, would seem new and potentially terrifying to the android.

Connor _was,_ technically, less than a year old.

Hank snorted at the thought. The noise made Connor shift, his LED slowly rotating to yellow. Hank grimaced, afraid he'd woken him up, but the android didn't stir again. The detective began to wonder if something was wrong, but dismissed that idea with a shake of his head; as long as the light on Connor's temple stayed away from that worrying red color, he should be just fine.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" Hank murmured. Save for the slightly disconcerting fact that Connor didn't need to breathe, the kid seemed so peaceful lying on the couch. Looking at him now, one would be hard-pressed to accept that this was one of the most efficient, skilled members of the Detroit police force, and Hank found it hard to believe that this was the same unfeeling machine he'd been forced to work with all those months ago.

Though he knew that getting this close to Connor would certainly rouse him, Hank couldn't help but lean over and give the android's hair a gentle ruffle. Sure enough, within seconds Connor blinked out of stasis mode and immediately focused on the human at his side.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, noting the slightly guilty expression on Hank's face.

"Yeah, sorry, I was just...," Hank trailed off with a shrug. "Sorry I woke you up, kid."

"It's alright, dad."

Hank blinked. He could count the amount of times Connor had called him that on one hand, and even then, it was always used as a smartass retort or as part of a guilt-trip. Connor had _never_ said that term with such nonchalance, like it was a completely normal thing.

Connor’s mouth twisted into a confused frown, eyes shifting downwards as he shook his head. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud, knowing that there was a high probability of Hank’s stress level rising to unhealthy amounts at the memories that word would bring up.

“I apologize, Hank, that was-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Hank waved away the android’s concerns, giving Connor a half-smile as he ruffled his hair again with renewed vigor. “I mean… if I’ve called you my son, that kinda makes me your… y’know.” Hank leaned back on his heels and rubbed the back of his neck, not quite ready to say it himself.

Connor looked up at the man he’d grown to know so well, feeling no need to search for deceit within his words. He returned his father’s smile with an even brighter one of his own.

“I know.”


End file.
